


Fallout Equestria: Mercy

by PaintSplattere



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4, My Little Pony, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fallout (Video Games) Setting, Fallout Equestria Inspired, Inspired by Fanfiction, Loss of Parent(s), POV First Person, Pacifist Main Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-04 01:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15831150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintSplattere/pseuds/PaintSplattere
Summary: Life is strange and oftentimes bad. Sometimes in small ways, like with badly-baked muffins or a missed birthday. Sometimes in large ways, like the end of the world and the theft of your only sibling. In a world wholly against you and all that you stand for, survival is more than just finding enough to eat and drink. It's living with what you become.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fallout Equestria](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/411789) by Kkat. 



Looking back on things, I can’t really remember the day the bombs fell in great detail. I remember the things the matter, though. It’d been late autumn… a nice and bright Saturday morning. The cold winds still sunk into the house from the night before and every step on the laminate was another shock to sleep-warmed hooves. I didn’t really care, more excited for the weekend. It was a time when I could forget I was only a few months away from moving out of my parents house after this last year of school.

I remember my papa at the sink, a manebrush encased in the golden corona of his magic as he brushed his buzzed-short mane, turning his head this way and that as he looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was a military pony, and just came back from his time overseas at the war front. He had a few more scars than I remembered, over his ears and snout, over his flank too. But not his cutie mark, the ivy-framed dove and shield. He said it meant he was a protector, so no one would ever have to worry. His name was Shatter, and he looked like me in a lot of ways.

We had the same kind of mane. Pink and yellow, striped like candy. Though mine’s like cotton candy and easter yellow stripes and his was the color of Mama’s blush palette streaked with old gold. He was icy blue-white, but his eyes were like the sunset and just as warm as a summer day as he spied my mama in the mirror. Mama laughing as he mockingly called himself a superstar like Sapphire Shores and kissed her. Mama said he was more like Coloratura as she moved him out of the way to get ready.

Mama -- Radiance was her name-- said she’d met Papa a long, long time ago, when she was an active journalist on the battlefield and he was still just barely in the military. I believed it too from the scar over her left cheek, just under her raspberry-colored eyes. Her mane was steel-gray, and striped through with aqua, shiny and soft as she stole the manebrush to run through it. She’d just had my baby brother a few weeks ago and looked awesome despite that. With the soft blue of her coat, her cutie mark always stuck out to me, the quill and sword crossed over her flanks.

I remember the service robot -- Bustler -- cleaning in the kitchen, then in my brother’s nursery, as I ate grabbed the box of Sugar Bombs to sit in front of the television. I wasn’t paying attention when the coat-wearing buck came to the door and asked Papa a few questions, it was saturday and I wanted to watch the new cartoons. It was foalish for someone at my age but I didn’t care that much. I don’t think I got to watch that new cartoon… if I did, I didn’t watch for very long. The channel had changed, rudely and abruptly, to the emergency stations where the anchorbuck was reporting flashes and explosions.

“Papaaaa! There’s something going on with the television!” I remember calling to him. His face had gone pure white… and then we were galloping up the hills behind our house. Mama was holding my little brother as we ran to the Stable that we’d enrolled in some months ago. There was a crowd of ponies waiting to get in… but they weren’t allowed in. The military bucks urged us up onto the platform, right as the sky erupted in a bright, bright light that was so white it was beyond color and comprehension. The wind hit as we started to descend, the debris stinging my eyes.

My brother was wailing… and then it was dark. For a few minutes, I thought I was blind from the megaspell blast and my only comfort was my papa’s broad hooves -- huge for a unicorn -- holding me close and soothing me. The elevator platform stopped and the lights of the Vault came into view and I realized I wasn’t blind… I was just underground.

“There we go Prismarina… feeling better?” Papa soothed, hooves brushing through my mane as I nodded, taking deep breaths. Mama had finally gotten my baby brother to calm down as our neighbors trotted off the elevator platform. “How’s my lil colt, huh? Don’t you worry Glorious Dawn, that was scary…but we’re safe now, I promise.” Papa cooed to my brother, who gurgled and whimpered and flailed his tiny hooves at the noise as Papa held him in his gentle magic.

Mama gently urged me on, “This is our new home now, I suppose. A bit … sterile looking… but I’m sure we’ll get used to it.” Her eyes were narrowed -- that way they did when she saw right through my poor attempts at cleaning my room by shoving all my stuff in my closet. At least it wasn’t directed at me for once, I thought to myself. Walking across the catwalk up into the vault, the scientist at the head of the line passed out jumpsuits. Blue, with yellow lines. It looked terrible against Mr. Coltfran’s chartreuse pelt, but at least it would look good on me, maybe. I had a much more befitting cyan coat.

The scientist -- why were there so many? -- handed me mine. I put it on and scowled at the loose fit. I didn’t blame the tailors who made these, they were pretty much made to be the same and I’m pretty small. “Now, now, I’m sure you’ll grow into it, little lady.” The Stable-Tec scientist reassured me. I scowled a bit at him, “Or, I could just take it in and do some alterations so it actually fits.” He paused, and Mama snickered behind a hoof. “You’ll have to pardon Prisma’s tongue… she gets it from me. Though, she is a good seamstress.” she tells the scientist, who looks like he’s bit into a rotten cupcake.

“R-Right, well, let’s get you four on down to orientation. Have the baby too? Great! Well, our Stable is meant to last, as all of them are. It’ll be your new home from here on out and we have our living quarters down further below. Before we can let you guys roam around, we need everyone to take a decontamination bath in our patented Stable-Tec pods.” he explains, leading us past the sobbing and hysterical Mrs. Able. Another doctor was comforting her gently, urging her husband on into the other decontamination room. Papa was looking around as we walked into a long room, steel and shiny and white-walled.

The cold floor bit into my hooves, and I shivered a bit. Huge pods, big enough to fit a bear inside, sat side by side down the walkway on either side. “Here we go. Just a quick pop into the decontaminator and then you guys can start live here in Stable 111!” the scientist said cheerfully. I looked to my mama, feeling much less brave all of a sudden as the weight of what happened hit me like a winter gale. She looked back at me, smiling as she pulled me into a hug. Her blue pelt smelled like the ink she wrote with and a little like sweat.

I bet I smelled sweaty too after that dead gallop up the hill… I hoped the decontaminator had a dryer or something inside it, so I wouldn’t be freezing when I got out. “Be brave, my rainbow. It’s just like a bath, don’t worry.” Mama teased, gently booping my muzzle with her hoof. I smiled back, waving it off. “I know, I know... “ Papa turned to the scientist, “Can my son go in that thing safely?” “Oh yes, just hold onto him nice and tight and he’ll be fine.” I didn’t really pay attention from there, hoof on the cold inner padding of the decontamination chamber. It was soft, but it was super weird that a decontamination chamber would be all softly padded. I got myself settled as the door of it slid down.

My mama and papa waved, I could see them getting into their own pods across from me from the window in the door. Papa waved Glorious’ little hoof at me and I giggled, the seal of the pod hissing as it sealed. And then it was so cold, so cold, and it was icing over on the insides! It was unavoidable and sudden, coming from everywhere from these tiny nozzles. I wanted to panic at just how bitingly icy it was but I was so cold and it felt better to just… curl up on the padding and … take a little… nap…

 

 

 

My eyelids feel so, so heavy… it’s an effort to open them at all. My breath is coming in sharp bites, it’s still cold. But I hear my mama… she’s screaming. Why is mama screaming? I struggle to keep my eyes open, grasping for consciousness. There’s a buck I don’t recognize… and white-coat wearing ponies with him… The buck has a nasty scar on his face… and he doesn’t have much of a mane. They’re opening up the pod across from me. That’s where… papa is. He’s gasping for air, my brother crying loud and piercing. It breaks the grasp the ice and chill has on me and I start to move as best as I can. My brother is in danger! My papa is struggling with the white-coated ponies, who are tugging my baby brother from him. The strong looking scarred buck raises a gun.

There’s a moment of silence as my Papa’s eyes go wide, and then a loud banging noise, like a firework. Papa’s gone still, and I can’t comprehend it as the cold all rushes back. Red is splattered all over the interior of the pod, and Papa’s not moving. My hooves go numb, tingles of shock rushing through me as they slip on the port-window glass. The ponies on the other side aren’t done, moving to my mama’s pod. I want to scream, but the cold and the shock has my voice locked away. The door on her pod is opening with a hiss more frightening than any snake, and there’s another sharp bang as my mother doesn’t even have time to struggle. There’s more red now, dripping from the pod even as the doors close again over my parent’s bodies. My brother is wailing and I can’t do anything.

“Feh… shame about the parents… but we were never after them anyway. Have the runt?” the buck snaps to the other two, who nod as they try to console my screaming brother. “Good. The sooner you can make it be quiet the better… and if things don’t work out, we still have the backup.” He grins nastily with yellow tombstone teeth, his eyes meeting mine as he taps the glass window with his gun and the rushing chill of the ice and cold and spray kicks in again. This time… I don’t even want to fight the cold, numbing wave of exhaustion and I succumb to sleep and hope that maybe this all is a bad… bad… dream…

 

 

 

My eyes snap open, the hissing of the door in my ears somewhere miles away as the padded seat thrusts me out powerfully. At first, I’m confused, my hooves sliding over the cold metal grill under me. I feel about as strong as a newborn foal, horn and hooves and pelt and everything about me aching from the chill and sharp heat of the outside world. I cough, thick mist erupting from my muzzle as the crust of icy air inside my lungs heats up again. It feels like the world is on fire, and deeply frozen, all at once. My hooves feel like pins and needles are being jabbed into them as I shakily gather myself. Standing is an effort, shaking and quaking the whole way as I bring my eyes up. There are sirens and horns blaring, now that I can hear them clearly. I take in the sight of my father’s face, the cold ice having crusted over his form, matting in his fur and if it wasn’t for the deep red staining his icy neck reddish brown you’d think he was asleep.

I choke on air anew, coughing as my tired, lazy lungs refuse to bring in enough air for this. Spitting more mist and who knows what else, I fumble with the control panels on the side. Slamming still-numb hooves into the buttons, the lid hisses back. I know I can’t save him, I know that… but Celestia above I want to hope. The ice peels back a bit as his limp form sags against the wall of the pod. His dogtags are still shining in the light, and there’s nothing I can do. Running to the next pod and fiddling with the door controls on that one tells me that this is a useless endeavor. There’s something making those sirens go off my brain tries to tell me. My mother’s dead, there’s nothing I can do. Nothing I can do. She looks peaceful too, even covered in ice and chill.

I can’t help the sob that starts to rise up, when the memories start to click into place. They took my baby brother. They took Glorious Dawn, and left my parents to die. They left me to behind. I didn’t know what I would do now. The sorrow and grief was turning into something cold and hard, filling my ears with the sound of the crashing ocean. I only barely remember moving my mother into the same pod as my father, they deserved that at least. It was hard, she was heavy and cold and hard and I could feel my heart growing just as heavy. I stepped back, tears pouring down my cheeks as my horn glowed soft pink, the door sliding back over the two of them with a sharp hiss and cracking ice. I wanted nothing more than to lay down and curl up and cry like a foal, and were it not for the sirens and hollering wails of the Stable’s security system I might have. It was hard to turn away from my parents… but I was alive and I needed to get out, or at least figure out where the rest of the Stable’s residents were.

I almost didn’t want to look at the pods down the line. Looking into the nearest one from mine, I saw the iced over form of my neighbor, so thick I couldn’t even tell who it was. Trying to open the pod was fruitless, the display on top coming back with errors. The occupant, whoever they were, was doomed if they weren’t already dead. I grit my teeth, and tried the next one and the ones after that too. Error, error, jammed door, sealed by Stable-Tec… This was my neighborhood, my whole life, shoved into a little room and laying dead as a graveyard. I felt the anger bubbling up inside, growling as my ears folded back and my back hooves drove into a toolbox. The pain made me gasp and I felt the huge red chest hit the floor, and that was satisfying in its own way. I ignored the contents that’d spilled as I walked into the hallway and turned my back on what I saw. I needed to get away, I needed to get these sirens to stop screaming, and I needed to find Glorious.

While the door to that… tomb… had opened up nice as you please, the one at the end of the hall was jammed. Thank Celestia for side doors, which seemed to still be in working order. There was a security baton on the floor, and I paused. Looking at the viewport, I could see the giant machine on the other side spitting thick bolts of lightning from the top. I don’t know much about machinery but that didn’t seem exactly safe. I scooped up the security baton, looking in at the side-room that was labelled security. The room was a mess, lockers askew and slightly open, a rummaged-through desk set near the wall but the drawers rifled through and not a pony in sight. A terminal was still active on the desktop. I looked around, biting my lip. Anything to distract my brain from what happened was… was good. I sat down in front of the terminal, tapping at the keys to find out just who owned this thing. It was a security terminal.

I skimmed through the files, reading things that I probably shouldn’t have. I knew the Stables were supposed to be safe… but… why had this happened? What was going on? Skimming past protocols and stuff, I found the journal logs from the security pony that had been using this last. The first entry was… today? No, that didn’t make sense, too much had gone on… and everypony in the pods was… long dead. I didn’t want to focus on what the day could be, and refocused on the entry.

“God, it finally happened… the end of the world as we know it. We barely got all the residents inside… not everyone on the staff made it, but… now it’s just the eggheads and the icebergs.

They tried to tell me what it all was for, why we couldn’t tell them. Looking back, it feels… wrong… that we lied. That they weren’t allowed to know we were putting them on ice. Smiling as we reassured that poor mare and her husband, it all felt so rotten… but at least they didn’t question it. I think everypony was too shook up.

I know I was…”

I moved onto the next one, not liking the sounds of things already.

“Hearth’s Warming underground… we all got together and threw a little party. At least there’s no party tax here! We passed around gifts… even if the best one was a Fancy Buck snack cake that hadn’t gotten too stale. None of the eggheads or the Overmare came, and I just don’t get them. Are they hiding things from us, the sorta stuff only those higher up ponies are allowed to know? It’s not fair… but it’s only a few more months til the All-Clear is supposed to come, so I guess I can handle it.”

Hearth’s Warming had already passed? Maybe it wouldn’t be too cold outside then… I don’t think I can handle more cold. I rubbed my shoulders at the thought and pressed on, reading the next entry to put the idea out of my mind.

“March 14…

Only a few weeks left in our mandatory shelter period. Everypony’s getting stir crazy and I don’t blame a single one. Some ponies are starting to lose hope, saying that the All-Clear’s NEVER coming.

We can’t stay here forever no matter what some ponies are saying, I know I can’t at least. And it’s not just because I keep staring at the same blank spot on the breakroom wall and sleeping on the same threadbare mattress for the last six months. It’s the sheer fact of the matter… we’re running out of food.

We might have enough for a few more months but… we’re running out fast. The Overmare is telling everyone to be patient and keep working. She’s keeping us out of the loop on something… I just know it.”

Frowning, I clicked down to the next entry. Trying to figure out what happened weighed more on the curious parts of my brain… if something happened here, maybe that would explain why everyone was dead.

“April 23…

The main door to the exit is malfunctioning. There’s no way out now, except for the Overmare’s evacuation tunnel. How great for her. She’s got one of the eggheads watching the door into her office all the time from some makeshift checkpoint they made out in the hall.

I got invited to a meeting tonight. Maintenance and security only… and I’m sure it’s not for a game of poker.”

I almost didn’t want to tap on the last entry. It didn’t have a date, or a title, just ‘Last Entry’. I took a breath to steel myself, and opened it.

“Last Entry.

No All-Clear is coming from Stable-Tec. We need to leave, and we need to leave now. We have no food left. I almost murdered Juniper for dropping a salt shaker on the floor it’s gotten so bad. A hooffull of us confronted the Overmare about opening up the Vault.

I never knew a mare so small could screech so loud. It was like a harpy had taken her place for a few minutes. But now she’s locked herself in that damn office with the eggheads. She’s demanding we hand over all we got. All our meds, guns, and food? No way, not even if there are “going to be consequences.”

I’ve talked with everypony. It’s time, and one way or another we’re leaving this Stable.”

I felt a shiver crawl up my spine and I logged off the terminal, shivering. So… the freezing was always going to happen. So… why is … why is everypony dead? Stumbling out of the security room the doors opened up for me as I approached, leading off towards what looked like a barren breakroom. Another terminal was sitting there. Checking through it didn’t give me much more than a stupid terminal game of some kind.

I took the holotape, feeling vindictive and petty and my anger was growing. These ponies didn’t care. They hadn’t cared that ponies were frozen, just a few rooms over. I wanted nothing more than to just slam my hooves into the table, but I held my temper in. Violence wasn’t the answer to things, it wasn’t. I just had to stay calm, stay calm and find somepony to help me. Even if there was no one left here… surely there were ponies outside, right?

Right… I sighed, holding onto the baton as I opened up the next door. I had to pass through this crazy room to get to the other side of the vault, at least according to the map that’d been on the breakroom wall. The door slid past neatly and something with greasy brown wings the size of my foreleg buzzed at me, leaping to attack. Swinging the baton into it to smash it away was reflexive, and it let out a horrible screech as gooey yellow-green ichor splattered onto the floor, coating the baton liberally. Recoiling with a whinny, I could see more of these… creatures starting to race at me on skittering legs.

They looked like roaches, but so, so much bigger. They leapt at me wildly, and I couldn’t help slamming my baton into their carapaces with a little more violence than was strictly necessary. I ran past the bodies, using the catwalk to avoid the sparking machinery and through the other door. I nearly fell on my face as my hooves tangled with something with a clatter of what sounded like stone on metal. I recovered, turning to look and wished I hadn’t. A pony skeleton, once intact… I’d scattered the bones from my dead sprint of panic. My eyes grew wide and I couldn’t help the scream that bubbled up from my throat like a flood. The sounds of skittering legs and buzzing wings followed me and I ran, galloping up steps and down hallways until I could slam into a room, shutting the door behind me. Nothing was in here, thankfully. Looking around, it looked like… an office of some kind.

Catching my breath, I spied a lock-up cage… a terminal on a desk, a row of filing cabinets. If it wasn’t for the gun on the desktop, and the bones on the floor, it would look like any other normal office. I gave the bones a wide berth, stepping around them to look at the terminal. I wanted to know more… to get answers. And if this terminal was all that was left, I was ready to step around a few bones and fight a few roaches for its treasure trove of information. I pulled the desk chair, broken wheel and all, over to the desk and took a seat in front of the terminal.

“Overmare’s terminal.” I read off, and jerked in surprise at the roughness of my own voice. I rubbed my throat a little, and logged into the first entry. So what if it was confidential, the Overmare was long gone.

“Stable 111 is designed to test the long term effects of suspended animation on unaware pony subjects. Your staff will be on short-term assignment to monitor basic cardiopulmonary and cognitive functions. Long term monitoring will be handled remotely by Stable-Tec technicians. Under no circumstances is suspension to be disrupted. This includes administration of life-saving measures.

Your staff is also considered expendable. Insubordination or attempts to evacuate are capital violations. Unused cryogenic pods are the preferred method for cadaver disposal.” I murmured, dread growing with every word. I didn’t understand the medical terminology but I didn’t have to be a genius to figure out the rest. They didn’t care about us. The Overmare, Stable-Tec, nopony. Keep those ponies nice and frozen, even if it kills them. There was a list there too, of pods and occupants and statuses. Nearly every last one was listing death by … asphyxiation, whatever that was. My pod was empty… unlocked remotely? Stable-Tec had let me out? But… why? I shook my head, and tabbed down to the Overmare’s personal entries. A list, not with dates, but titles. Ominous ones. Preparations… Mutiny… System Malfunctions… I almost didn’t want to read. But I took a breath.

“C’mon Prismarina… you gotta know this stuff… you’re not a little filly, you can’t be scared anymore. Glorious needs you… and you have to find him.” I muttered to myself, swearing not to leave any stone unturned if it meant finding my baby brother. Clicking the first one, I settled in for a read.

“The final staff orientation is complete and all but a few residents down in Serendipity Hills have been enrolled. The stable-tec guys assured me that everything was all in order with the pods too. I’m almost jealous of the ponies who get to go in these things, like leaping forward through time. Wonder what they’ll get to see, but I have a job to do and I’m glad to do it! … It’s happened… the early warning came just in time, too. We’re all in -- apart from a few stragglers, thank Celestia. Thank goodness the residents were too shook up to question the cryo-pods. Even that family that waited til the last minute got in, which is a relief.

… Strange issue with pod C3, subject was having heart palpitations. Nothing life-threatening, but weird. We figured out that the cryopod was kickstarting the thaw process too soon! Must’ve been a weird errant signal from Stable-Tec. I only hope these things remain intact after we leave...

… There’s been no All-Clear… even though we’re nearing the end of the Mandatory Shelter Period. Supplies weren’t meant to last this long. Ponies are starting to wonder what we’re doing here. I can’t let them leave too soon! The radiation would kill them… and we were never supposed to leave after the All-Clear, we were just supposed to get some more information. I just have to keep control of things…

… A faction of security ponies have turned on me! They want to leave the Stable. Idiots. I won’t let them open the door just to let all that radiation in, they’re insane. I just have to have a firmer hoof on things. Everypony on lockdown… I have to prioritize rations and if someponies don’t like it well… that’s fewer mouths to feed…”

I felt my hooves go tingly again, and I shook it off as best I could. Things were clicking and making sense in dark ways… the lack of ponies… the gun in here and the skeleton I’d been trying to ignore under the desk. I… I couldn’t handle it. I keyed in the command for the evacuation tunnel, and stood back from the desk. I shivered, feeling my pelt shake as I sighed.

“There’s nothing here. No food, no water, nopony else. We can’t stay…” I muttered, walking through the open tunnel, feeling more than a little wary of more of those… giant roaches. The darkness of the tunnel was broken up by backup lighting, and it was here that my poor aching ears could get some relief from the sirens. There wasn’t a way in the terminals to turn those stupid things off anyway. The tunnel opened up at a sight I had almost forgotten about. The entryway of the Stable. For a moment, I could see the blinding fluorescent lights, the technicians handing out suits, the fake smiles of the security ponies as my neighbors marched and lined up to get into what would be their tomb. I don’t know how long I stood and stared, but a fierce bite snapped me out of it, as I reared back, swinging blindly with my baton.

The roach that’d bit me went flying, carapace shattered as it slammed into the far wall. I panted, looking at my foreleg. Nothing more serious than a … well… a big bugbite. But it still stung. I hadn’t found any medicines, so I’d have to keep an eye on this. A box of old jumpers would do for a bandage, til I found a doctor. Who knew what kind of diseases that thing could have? But now I had a new obstacle. The big, heavy metal door of the Stable, gear shaped and impossible for a little unicorn like me to move. Inspecting the control panel, I saw the solution and the new issue all in one.

A port for a PipBuck line. A PipBuck I was seriously lacking. I looked around, and my eyes fell on a skeleton, still wearing a heavily stained, once-white medical coat. On the skeletal leg of the scientist was a PipBuck, unclasped and off. I winced, debating with myself. Could I really steal from the dead? My hooves trembled, and I stepped forward. I took a few breaths to steady myself, reaching out tentatively. The skeleton seemed to stare at me accusingly with its empty sockets.

I bit my lip, “Sorry guy… it’s you or me… and… you’re not using it…” I muttered to the corpse as I slipped the computer off his legbone. Was it a he? Did it matter at this point? Not really. Using my magic, I clicked the PipBuck onto my foreleg, rubbing some of the dust and dirt off the screen. The cute StableBuck icon popped on as the thing turned on. I waited til it was done initializing before pulling the plug out and slotting it into the control panel, twisting the knob to get the door open. The sirens blared in the quiet of the room, the quiet I hadn’t even known was there as the door screeched and howled as it rolled out of its ancient place and to the side.

The catwalk extended outward, to the darkness of the elevator platform. For a moment, I was scared. I didn’t know what was out there. More giant roaches? Radiation? Death? I stepped onto the catwalk, reasoning with myself as I let my hooves carry me.

“It’s death out there, maybe… but death in here for sure. I need food… and water… and … Glorious needs me. I need to find him. The ponies who took him... They weren’t going to hurt him, they would’ve if … if they wanted to then. H-How hard can it be to find a stolen foal? Ponies are ponies… and everypony has some good in them, so … It shouldn’t be hard to find help…” I muttered as I felt my hooves hit concrete, then metal again. I turned to look at the Vault, then down at my stolen PipBuck, then up into the darkness of the elevator shaft. “...Alright. Let’s do mama and papa proud. Be brave, Prisma… let’s go find Glorious, and then… and then we’ll figure it out from there.” I told myself, hitting the button to go up.


	2. Chapter 2

The pieces were there, but none of it made sense. I could see what had been my neighborhood, Serendipity Hills, from this bluff overlooking it. I could see the winding creek that held the tiny island that it was built on. I could see the houses… or what had been the houses? Half of them looked crushed, the other half blown out. 

 

I sat down hard on the old steel under my hooves, trying to grasp what I was seeing. When we had gone into the Stable, the world had been painted orange and yellow and brown, the grass had been violently deep green, even the air had been spiced and scented like the very essence of Autumn.

 

I couldn’t see any orange, or yellow, or green. Everything was dead, gray or brown or washed out. Even the creek looked dull and colorless. The sky above was full of gray, rain-heavy clouds that threatened to let it all go at any time. I felt exposed, too bright, too colorful in this dreary landscape. The very air was oppressively dead, smelling like old leaf litter and decay and something else I could only call dangerous.

 

I skittered back from the sight of my old home, hooves clattering over the metal. I almost wanted to go back down, down into the Stable where things were safe. But. It wasn’t safe there either. There was nothing there but the dead, and the cold.

 

I bit down on my lip, letting the pain clear the panic from my mind as I shook my head. I panted, turning from the sight and looking towards the vast wilderness in the other direction. Papa had always said the woods beyond the neighborhood were dangerous, and I didn’t have a reason to doubt him then or now. I could see a chickenwire fence too, something that the whole neighborhood had made sometime last summer… some … who knows how many decades ago. 

 

Before, I never would have seen it until I was upon it. But now, with everything dead and dying and struggling, things were so starkly laid out. The skeletons of the military ponies that had ushered all of us up onto the platform, laid white and bare everywhere. I didn’t want to see what had become of the crowd that hadn’t been allowed in.

 

My stomach growled at me angrily, and I realized that it had been a long… LONG… time since I’d eaten anything. The temporary office pods nearby had to have something inside them, right? I dashed to it, my roaring stomach driving me on. Nothing inside but shattered glass, a long-broken terminal, and bobby pins. I grabbed the pins, if nothing else I could hold my mane back with them. 

 

The next pod over had something at least passingly edible. Sugar Bombs, which I was happy to jam in my mouth by the hoofful until the pangs of hunger passed. It was only after they had gone down did I realize just how mealy and spongy the old cereal had tasted.

 

I didn’t care, it was something familiar and comforting. I looked down at the exploding bowl and happy pony on the box. It was old, faded and half-decayed and I’m surprised it didn’t turn to dust in my hooves when I’d ripped it open. I sighed, putting the box in the dustbin next to the desk, dragging a hoof down my face.

 

“Alright Prisma, we got food… but… we have to find… something. Anything. A lead on where they took Glorious would be great, but that’s not exactly gonna be easy. I haven’t seen anypony yet, but there’s bound to be someone out there. I just gotta… pick a direction and start trottin’.” I told myself as I pulled a dead twig off the stubborn bush it was attached to. 

 

Walking up to the elevator platform again, I cleared some dust off the flooring and spun the twig with a twist of magic, still talking to myself like some kind of madmare. “Just go where the twig points, shouldn’t be too hard. And it’s not like this area of Equestria was unpopulated, like out in the boonies…” 

 

The twig fell over, pointing directly where I had dreaded it would. Right into Serendipity Hills. I frowned, and spun it again and then one more time for good measure. It finally fell, the tip of it pointing westward, following the curve of the creek.

 

I grinned, “Perfect, first time. Good job, twig.” Setting off at a trot, I left the twig and the suburb, behind. 

 

The water made my PipBuck click angrily when I approached, and I looked at the crazy thing. A dial was going nuts, the wiggling needle hovering closer to the red side. I had no idea what it indicated, but I could guess. “Not safe to drink, huh… well… hope I find something soon then. This might be what I’ve got.” I muttered, following the curve of the creek. I could see things bobbing through the trees every so often, and nothing looked great about what I saw. Bloated insects, bigger than my head, buzzing around puddles of sludgy ooze or garbage piles. 

 

It came to a head when the night came, the dusk coming so much faster than I could have ever thought it would when things were still normal. Thankfully, a cabin was there, like a beacon from Celestia herself. Dashing up the old, creaky wood stairs, I just slid inside and shut the door on the outside world before the tricks that shadows like to play could get to me. 

 

Lighting my horn helped me see in the gloom, and I was forever thankful that I at least picked up a light spell when I was in school. The phantom echoes of buzzing wings in my ears faded as I calmed down. 

 

I turned back towards the room, putting giant bugs and the weirdness of this dead world behind me for the moment. Not much to speak of in here, wood floor, a fireplace, a suitcase tossed in the corner… and a skeleton on a mattress so filthy I got itchy just looking at it. I gulped, and took a few steps back until my rump hit the door.

 

“It’s… it’s just a skeleton, Prisma, just a skeleton. It can’t hurt you… but that mattress is done for.” I muttered, scooting away from it. A filthy floor was better than the bed the dead was using, and hey, maybe there was something of use in the suitcase. 

 

Fiddling with the latches, it popped open. A can of beans, some magazines and casual dresses, a milky looking healing potion, and a holotape were inside. I took the beans, I think I’ll need them more than the skeleton… but the holotape was a mystery. 

 

My PipBuck was labelling it as a ‘runaway’s holotape’... and I almost didn’t want to listen. But. It might provide something to keep my brain occupied while the sun set and help me find sleep easier.I settled in on the coziest bit of floor, pillowing my head on the suitcase with one of the dresses as a blanket. Not the comfiest bed, but.. It worked for the night.

The tape started to play, the whirring of the dials inside soothingly soft. The voice that came through was painfully young. About my age, I think. She sounded soft and scared, “I finally told them tonight, and it was bad. Real bad. Dad was shouting, telling me I should be ashamed, that I had to get out of the house.Mom just cried, and somehow that hurt worse than anything else.

She didn't say a word, not even when I packed my things. I can't go to Applecore-- he doesn't even know yet. Maybe he'll never know. If it weren't for the cabin I wouldn't have a place to sleep. Just need some time to think. Last time I was here, I was just a little filly playing clubhouse in this old cabin. Now I'm really scared. Will anything ever be right again?” 

I buried my face in the dress that belonged to this poor filly, and felt like crying. I shut my eyes, praying for sleep, for it all to be a dream. But it wasn’t a dream and it wouldn’t stop and there was nothing I could do except listen to the howls of monsters beyond the trees and feel the dust and dirt rub into my pelt and feel the damp wetness of clouds full of rain that just wouldn’t fall.

Morning came sooner than I expected, I must’ve passed out in the night, and I don’t know when. But the bright light of morning was painful on my eyes. I think it might’ve been around the time that would’ve been called allergy season, but my PipBuck refused to give me a clear date. Useless thing. Trying to get it off proved useless too, it was like the latch had welded shut on my foreleg. I guess that’s being a bit ungrateful to it… it did get me out of the Stable, and it did seem to have a map of the general area. 

I could see the major roads that used to exist, leading in and out of the city which my PipBuck deemed was the ‘Commonwealth’. Which was weird, but… i guess it was getting information from Stable-Tec or something. Looking closer, I could see that there were several major roads, but one seemed to look pretty promising… just a few lakes away, and it lead in and out of the city itself. Maybe there were ponies who could help me, if I could make it there.

I made that my goal, and opened the door to the cabin. Nothing seemed to be around but the oppressive mugginess of the clouds and the dead grass. I made my way further south, following the map on my PipBuck. It helped that the targeting overlay spell had finally kicked in, making things like my direction and some marks appear in front of my eyes. 

It was purely mental, really, and not truly there. But it helped me feel more secure in my heading. The E.F.S. spell was even customizable on this one, letting me switch the color from aggressive, neon green to a more soothing baby blue. I figured I could use whatever comforts I could find. 

I pulled out the can of beans as I sat on the simple porch, taking in my environment. Things were different, and strange, and I had a feeling that this was a moment of peace and maybe even a rarity. I still hadn’t seen any signs of pony life, just those insects that bobbed along like hideously mutated balloons and the roaches. 

I sighed, and took hold of the can in my magic, pulling on the ringtab til the thing gave and the scent of beans filled my nose. It was gross -- I’d never liked beans -- but something tells me that just like the monsters, food was probably going to be different too.

All over again, I felt like crying. Over beans? It felt so stupid, so sillly and pointless and I felt ashamed at the way the first hot tear rolled over my cheeks and into the can of beans. Nothing was the same, and it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair and Goddesses it hurt to know that nothing would ever be right again. Even if I did find Glorious, that didn’t make the world un-fucked by radiation, it wouldn’t make the monsters go away, and it wouldn’t bring my mama and papa back.

I folded over, hooves over my eyes as I sobbed like a foal, the sheer weight of all that’d happened crushing down on me. My eyes were still stinging and red and raw when the tears finally stopped. I’d run out, and my head and horn throbbed. Nothing had changed… it was still overcast, the wing still blew through the grass, and my parents were still dead. 

With a harsh scream of frustration, I threw the beans as far away as I could with a telekinetic throw. I didn’t care where the stupid things landed, I wasn’t hungry anymore anyway. I wasn’t angry either… I wasn’t anything. I was out of tears, out of caring, and out of hope.

Picking a heading, I started walking. 

\----------------

It was the crackle of static that caught my attention some… hours later. The sun was lower in the sky, but it wasn’t dark yet. I’d been plodding, one hoof in front of the other, eyes forward but not seeing as dead bush after struggling clump of grass passed by. The static broke into my apathetic state, and it came from somewhere close. I looked around, the E.F.S. spell not pinging any targets back to me. 

I felt stupid as I realized it was just my PipBuck, catching a stray radio frequency. I paused, bringing the thing up to fiddle with the tuning dial. It took a moment or two, when the signal caught on stronger and the cheerful song came dootling out of the speaker with an eagerness that was stronger than my own at the moment. The song itself was bombastic and swelling and enticing, but the voice that came after was… a bit doofy.

“Hiya, fillies and colts! Remember, Sparkle-World is only open for a few more weeks in October! Come down and see me and Cappy one last time before buckling down for the winter. Don't forget to bring your empty bottle of Sparkle-Cola to get 15 bits off at the gate! So hop aboard the Sparkle-Express and come and see the whole Sparkle family while you still can!

The Sparkle-Express is accessible through the Sparkle-World Transit Center. Parking fees will apply. Prices subject to change due to end of season. Sparkle-World, Sparkle-Express, and the Sparkle-Cola characters are all registered trademarks of the Sparkle-Cola Corporation and the Ministry of Morale.” the radio blared. I remembered this being all over the newspapers… was the broadcast still going, even after all this time? 

We were going to go in the summer… and summer’s long gone and past. I bit my lip because it was foalish, and stupid… but so was everything else in this stupid wasteland! I set the targeting spell to lead towards the Sparkle-World Transit Center, and started marching. Having a goal made things feel more solid, more real, even if it was to just go to some amusement park. There was probably food, or water… or soda… most likely just soda, but it was better than nothing! 

By the time my sore hooves had gotten me to the great big ol parking garage that my PipBuck was insisting was the Transit Center, night was starting to fall. The giant soda bottles that were clumped around like stray bowling pins were a helpful indicator of my PipBuck being right at least.

I felt dead on my hooves, the exhaustion from walking and I didn’t even care that the garage had litter and old carriages inside. I just wanted to sleep. One of the old buggies still had something of an interior left and a missing door. But it was warm, and there was a roof over my head. 

I just curled up inside, feeling something close to comfy as the skies finally opened and the rain started to pour down. It had a nasty pinkish-green tinge to it, almost glowing as the lightning forked overhead. I shivered, feeling the rush of energy through my horn as my PipBuck clicked angrily at every bolt that showed up, pink and green neon colors clashing through the air like sick fireworks.

I covered my ears, and screwed my eyes shut, trying to block out the noise and the light that battled for my attention. I didn’t like this, it didn’t feel safe and I didn’t want any part of this. But could I risk running to the Transit Center with its doors and secure insides, with this storm raging so loudly?

I was willing to risk it, getting out of the buggy and bolting across the asphalt that’d cracked from age and radiation damage, spying the doors of the transit center. There were fires burning nearby, but I didn’t care about how they hissed and spat at the damp and the wet that was dripping into them. An old piece of cardboard that was still sturdy proved to be a somewhat good umbrella, and I scurried inside. 

All at once the clicks of the radiation meter slowed to a stop, and I tossed the soggy cardboard away, grumbling at my own lack of nerve. Honestly, it’d just been a storm… even if it was a radiation-filled lightning-fireworking storm that made my PipBuck click and-- I shook my head, tossing the thoughts away as I sighed and scrubbed my face with sore hooves. 

I didn’t care what was nearby, I didn’t care it was dark and dingy and dirty… I just wanted to sleep. Curling on one of the nearby benches, I pillowed my head on my hooves, and slept.

  
  


\------------------------------------------

  
  


It was the sound of someone that woke me, startling me awake as the sounds of hissing caught my attention and my ears pricked. I almost wanted to flee in terror, the feeling of being drenched in cold, icy spray covering my coat before I realized it was… it was another pony!

Hopping up, I carefully approached. He must’ve come in the night, when I was sleeping. He was beyond me, leaning on the turnstile with a truly matted orange mane, contrasting his dingy yellow coat. He looked battered, and bruised, and was almost sobbing to himself.

“Fuck… fuck they’re all going to die…” he moaned, hissing from the pain of his wounds. My ears fell, this poor buck… 

“What… what happened to you?” I asked, lifting a hoof in concern. His eyes -- bloodshot and blue -- popped open in deep surprise. He coughed, looking up at me as he responded hoarsely. “Raiders… Those filthy rotten raiders took my family. Please, you have to help me!” he begged as I took a step back from just how desperate he sounded.

“Are you alright?” I asked, stepping back because when I looked, he really DID look roughed up. Not much more than scraps of old clothes on him to keep off the dirt and rain. 

“Hell, I’ve seen better days… but… I’m not worried about me, I’m worried about my family. When the raiders find out I got away…” he looked away, distraught. “I don’t wanna think about what they’re gonna do to them... “

I carefully tapped my hoof on the ground to catch his attention back to me. The confusion must’ve been easy to read as he looked even more surprised when I asked the obvious question, “What’s… a raider?”

“Did you jus’ crawl out of a vault? Course… with that barding… can’t hide it at all, huh? A raider’s a mean pony, nastier than heck… a monster. They hurt people just cuz they can… or for caps… money. But these guys ain’ like the raiders in the Commonwealth… they make those guys seem like foals.” he explained hoarsely, though his tone was like that of someone talking to a filly about to go to her first day at school. 

I guess I was out of the loop, but… somehow I just… couldn’t comprehend a pony hurting someone else just… just for fun. He must be exaggerating. Yeah. But what else could’ve roughed up this poor guy? I didn’t want to think about it, shaking my mane and looking back at him.

“I… right… Raiders.” I replied, because he was looking at me like he was expecting something. “W-What happened anyway?” 

“We got fooled… my family and I ran into some traders… they said they knew about a place in Sparkle-World, one that was safe. But when we got there... “ He shakes his head, the brown dreads hitting his neck. “Found out they were Raiders the whole time just foolin us the whole way… I managed to escape, but my wife and son are still there. I wanted to find some help, but … they got me with a bullet… didn’t ‘spect it.” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“The park is still up and running?” I asked, surprised. That’s some serious architectural magic if it survived this long. Wait, what am I doing asking this when a hurt buck’s on the floor in front of me?!

“I wouldn’ call it runnin…” he laughs, more a wheeze of air than anything. “Raider’s have gotten it all fixed up, they got it pretty made even if the place is run down… they got food… medicine… guns… oh Celestia I shoulda stayed there…” he sobbed to himself.

I didn’t like the sound of that, but… guns. I hated guns, they brought nothing but pain and misery… it’s why Papa flinched every time Ms. Able’s ol’ cart drove by and backfired noisily. I shook the memory away. “How’d you manage to get away from them?” 

“There ain’ too many… four, maybe five. When they started hoppin’ up on Dash to celebrate, it was easy to get free. I could pick the lock on the cage, but… one-a them noticed before I could free my wife an’ son. My wife, Bloom, she tol’ me to run so I did… just gotta hope its not too late to save em.” he gasped. He seemed to be getting worse and damn I really wish I’d had the forethought to raid the Stable for medicine, something, anything. The only thing I had on me was the healing potion from the suitcase in the cabin. 

“What about you? You look terrible…” I said, starting to dig around for it. I was forever grateful that my barding had some saddlebags sewn in.

“Jus’ leave me, my wife an’ son are all that matter. You hear me?” he said with much more power than I thought a shot pony would have. Then again, he must’ve made it all the way here… earth ponies were more resilient than I thought. He seized my hoof in his, making me jump, “Tell me you’ll do this!”

“I...I, yeah, I will. Okay!” I squeaked and he let go, looking relieved. He pulled something out of his own barding, a scrap of badly scrawled numbers and letters on some old cardboard.

“Here… this is the password for the monorail… fastes’ way there is the Sparkle-Express. I had turned it off so those fuckers wouldn’ follow me…” he explained as I gripped it in the soft pink of my magic, tucking it into my barding. Somehow, my PipBuck knew just which pocket it was supposed to go in, and seemed to just categorize it as it fell into the saddlebags. 

“Get inta the office, and turn it back on… please hurry, I dunno how much time they have left.” he begged. I nodded, and turned to look around. The ticket booth seemed to be the place to find the terminal. 

Bingo, just what I was looking for. Turning it on, it started up the process of making those old connections again, half decayed from the megaspells. It’d take a bit, and I knew it would, infuriatingly enough. The songs for the intercom system kicked on, just as loud as before things had all died.

Brought a small smile to face, hearing them again. For a moment, I could almost pretend this wasn’t happening… that a dying buck was laying over there, shot in the side and… okay, no, no more pretending. I had to focus, this was a family’s life on the line and… probably mine too.

I shook that thought off, and turned to the entries on the terminal. Seem someone had logged all the maintenance requests for the station here. It was better than sitting with my hoof under my tail, so I tabbed to the first one in the list. 

Seemed that a foal had shoved gum in the faucet. The stallion that took care of the gum didn’t seem too pleased about the incident. Then again, if I had to clean up gum from the fountain six times in a row, I wouldn’t be either. Nothing too big or life shattering. Almost mundane… 

Tabbing down, I read further. Maybe this G. Field was just a sourpuss. The intercom system repeating the same advertisement isn’t grounds for a firing squad in any kind of case. The next file down about a malfunctioning, unresponsive protectron was more worrying… then again, if a robot is entirely unresponsive, it’s probably out of power.

Really. What kind of ponies were working here anyway? I felt that was worth even more questioning when the next entry down was about more gum in the fountains… and then the ol’ G. Field deciding that enough was enough and that he was going to tinker with the protectron…

I shivered, feeling a distinct sense of dread, and clicked the last entry listed. Instead of Mr. Field writing about the new lining on the monorail doors, it was a J. Bee. All the others had been written by Field… perhaps they finally fired the guy. Exiting out to the next tree, I could see the progress bar at the bottom informing me the monorail was about halfway hooked up again. 

Next section was employee notices… usual junk. Serve with big ol’ Pinkie-Pie Wide smiles! After all, everypony was here for the bestest times of fun-fun-fun! I had to wonder if it was just Ministry of Morale’s way of writing that made them seem so permanently peppy. Then again, if it was in my job description to smile all day, I think I’d get a little self conscious over it. Next notice down was just a shift-change roster, nothing special… but the last one was an… employee termination?

That feeling of icy dread came back, and I clicked it. The dread was right… people shouldn’t mess with protectrons -- or any kind of robot really -- if they didn’t know what they were doing. Green Field seemed to have gotten fired for that oversight… I hoped the little foal had turned out alright… Then again, looking at the date… he was probably long, long dead… or very old. 

Turning from the terminal, I looked around. Nothing but some sparkle-cola, and some bobby pins, and something that my PipBuck refused to identify as more than just Gator-on-a-Stick. It looked edible though, and had been in a lunchbox. It looked fresher than … who-know’s-how-old beans, so… it was worth keeping to me.

The progress bar chimed merrily at me, the monorail was hooked up again. I took a breath as the car came trundling in on its track, steady as a stone. Looking towards the yellow-coated buck, I felt bad, and walked back over. I had to pass by him to get on and smiled as reassuringly as I could as I stepped into the car. He looked more than a little worried. 

“Don’t you worry, mister. I’ll do my best to get your family to safety. Oh… I almost forgot.” I pulled the healing potion out, setting it by his hooves with my telekinesis.. “It’s a bit old, but it should still be good. See ya!” The doors shut and the monorail started to pull away, out of the station as the buck took the potion in his hooves, shock written on his face. 

As the cars pulled away, the guy got onto his hooves with the potion in his mouth. There was no way someone could catch up to it, but I was surprised he was so thoughtful as to try to thank me… 

I did hope that he’ll be alright. Strange… helping out someone felt pretty good. It always had before, but… doing this made a warmth blossom in my chest. I sat on one of the benches, watching the tunnel open out into warm, open air and sun. The rain had passed, and the clouds looked like cotton candy again. I realized, I hadn’t even asked the guy’s name. I guess it didn’t matter. I could already tell things were looking up.

  
  


\------------

 

Things. Were not. Looking up.

What the utter fuck was I thinking?! Looking up?! Nothing ever looked up anymore! Nothing in this Celestia-forsaken wasteland was ever any GOOD! I wanted to slam my hooves into the floor, and it felt good to stomp for a moment. That buck hadn’t been wounded, and I was stupider than a stone to be fooled… 

Taking a chance to run my hooves through my mane -- and then tug a hoof out of the curls, I looked back on how I’d gotten in this mess. It’d been such a nice, simple ride on the monorail. And then the intercom had crackled to life above me, cutting through the advertisement for Sparkle Dark. 

“So… Scrub Grass found another sucker to help his ‘family’ huh? Can’t believe ponies still fall for that crap. I only got a minute, so listen up. The name’s Gauge. Bullet Gauge, and the truth is, you ain’ here to rescue nopony. Yer here to die in the death trap. Buuuut, here’s a prize little bit of radhog to motivate you. Get through alive, an I got an offer for you. In the meanwhile, put on a good show. I’ll be watching.” he said, half smooth, and half like he smoked cigarettes on the daily.

I shivered, feeling my mane lift and fall as the monorail pulled into the station. I hadn’t been blind to the cages filled with bones and ravens and the just-as-dead landscape beyond the train. The only difference was the giant red cola bottle in the distance. 

But the scenery didn’t help me now, and I needed to think and be calm. A radio broadcast cut into my thoughts, blaring through the station speakers.

“Attention all my funloving raiders out there, seems some fresh meat has come to try out the Gauntlet!” an excitable buck crowed, making me wince. The elevator from the station seemed to be dead, and the only thing I could find was a terminal full of nasty taunts and grammatical errors. At least the radio was silent now, but that was somehow just as bad if not worse.

The only way I could go was down the stairs. Somepony had smeared white paint on the walls, pointing on down to the Gauntlet… I didn’t want to go in there. I didn’t. It was death.The radio, the intercom, and even that no-good Scrub Grass knew it and I did too now. 

Trying to squeeze between the railcars would be foolish, I’d have to drop more than a few dress sizes to fit, and they took up the whole of the tunnel. I had no choice. Stay up here, starve and die… or go down there and have way worse in-the-moment odds… but better overall. 

I judged on my hooves, the pros and cons. There weren’t many. But stalling helped, and it made me feel braver. I shakily stepped down the stairs, feeling less than enthused. I was so focused on my own misery that I slipped on something hooves flailing as I tumbled and fell down the last few steps and landed in a heap on something softer than the concrete. I gathered myself, shaking my head as I looked down at what I’d landed on. The face of a dead pony looked back at me, eyes milky and clouded over.

His fur was already matted from decay and blood. His blood. I’d slipped on this buck’s blood as I had walked down, and he had died here at the bottom of the stairs. I couldn’t hold it in any more, launching myself back and away from the body with a wail, sobbing as tears rolled hot and heavy down my face and obscuring my vision. 

I ran back up the stairs, heaving as I found a trash can to throw up in. There wasn’t much to get rid of, but it stung the whole way coming up. I threw my hooves over my eyes and curled in a ball, throat stinging and vision misting over from sheer terror as the reality sunk in.

I was going to die here and nopony was coming to save me. A bright fire lit in my belly, small and weak… but bright. I didn’t want to die here. I wasn’t going to die here. I was going to live. And that meant doing the hard thing. I gathered my courage, moving back down the stairs. The door of the Gauntlet -- though this door read Cuntlet for some reason, rude -- was hanging wide open. I could take a peek beyond, and nearly wet myself. 

Turrets. Line after line… of turrets. Currently swiveling back and forth in targetting sweeps… but… turrets. I gulped, taking a step back and nearly tripping again. I looked down, scared to see what monstrousness I’d stepped on or in this time. Thankfully, it wasn’t bone, or gore, or anything… just… metal. 

“AND SHE’S OFF! Hopefully this little filly can draw inspiration from our… last contestants, heheh~!” the buck over the intercom laughed with a little ‘ew’ noise. I glared at the ceiling, not amused at all. I was gonna die here! How could this… this monster laugh!?

Scooping up my tripping hazard in my telekinesis, I couldn’t tell what it was. Some kind of weapon, but it didn’t seem to use bullets. Shaking out the ammo, they seemed to be some kind of… syringe? My PipBuck told me the item in fact was Syringer Ammo, specifically poison. Poison? 

It wasn’t as bad as a bullet… you can survive being poisoned. I took a breath and held the new thing in my telekinetic grip tightly. I didn’t want to die. I wasn’t going to anyway, and if that meant using a weapon then so fucking be it. 

I didn’t see more ammo and there was only one way this thing could’ve gotten here. I decided to give the body a pass… I could find, or maybe even make more later, I’d already robbed the dead once this week, thank you very much.

Peeking back into the room, I tried to remember what I knew about robots and turrets and machines… not… a whole lot. They spat bullets like nothing else and had targeting talismans. I could try to dismantle these things… but I could try to run. There couldn’t be that many.

I had… a chance. I had no other choice. Slipping the gun-thing in my saddlebags… a Needler apparently as my PipBuck called it, and braced into a running position. It was me versus the turrets. I didn’t like these odds but I didn’t have to. I just had to run. I could do that right? 

I just had to not think about how I was never the most athletic pony in school, and how I’d never really done the whole running thing…

I shook myself, steeling myself as best I could with a breath. Now or never… run or die. Before I could talk myself out of it, I threw my hooves forward with a clatter of keratin on concrete, running like diamond dogs were on my tail as the turrets slowly popped to life with a chorus of ominous beeps, and then the sharp pops and bangs of bullet fire and magical discharge. I could feel the bullets graze my tail and I didn’t care, didn’t care, I was running and nopony could stop me! 

Turning this way and that among the shelves, I ran and ran and didn’t care to explore or check out my surroundings because I was going to live! Some part of my addled, adrenaline filled brain said this was a shop, maybe, or it had been. A gift shop? Why did I care?!

And then I saw the door ahead, scrawled with arrows around it and that was my way out! I just needed to get there and I’d be safe! One step at a time, one hoof in front of the other, just gotta do it at a gallop. No time to slow down, to be slow was death.

The door seemed to crawl closer as I felt my mouth fill with the taste of iron and copper, sweat froth up from my pelt and coat, my mane flying wildly as I ran and ran and then I was through and I was alive! I swung around and bucked the door, hearing bullets ping uselessly off the metal of it...denting, but not getting through. I panted, feeling the sweat roll off my forehead and horn as I realized what stupidness I’d just done and gotten away with. I ran in front of turrets. 

I felt my legs start to turn to jelly, but shook off the feeling, and looked ahead. Three doors. 

Three doors?

“All doors lead to death! Some just slower than others!” the overcom buck taunted. I. I wanted to strangle this pony. I did. I had three options, one was probably going to be the way out. 

“Three doors, three options, just gotta pick one, I just… have to pick one. If I was a stupid, stupid pony, I’d go with … oh fuck it, I’m not a smart pony! Eenie, meenie, minie… you seem fine!” I shouted, hauling the middle door open with all my telekinetic might.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnote:  
> Level Up: Level 2  
> Perk: Light Step: Whether its stepping lightly or running for your life, you have a keen sense of where to put your hooves. You no longer activate ground-based traps.


End file.
